See You When You're Forty
by Kittykittychan
Summary: Every morning, with an arrogant air, he walks past her desk without so much as a glance at her... Ginny Weasley tells of the thrill of being hated in this sister fiction to Goodbye, Cinderella.


Name: See Me When You're 40   
Author: Antidisestablishmentarianist / Kitty kitty  
Rating: PG-13  
Sister Fic: Goodbye, Cinderella.   
Pairing: One sided Ginny/Draco  
Disclaimer: Harry Potter doesn't belong to me ^^;;Nope, it's JK Rowlings. If it was mine, would I really still be here? The song "See me when you're 40" belongs to the lovely Dido. It's presented here in it's very mangled form (I took the lines that applied, folks, sorry.)   
Author notes: Yes, alright. I felt sick of twisting Draco's personality to my Goodbye Cinderella whim, I wanted him to be the cool calculating git that he is… so I twisted Ginny's instead. I'm not sure whether it's PG-13 or not, it's slightly masochistic O.O;; (All: *Scared* … kaaat?)

_I've driven 'round in circles for three hours.  
It was bound to happen that I'd end up at your…  
I temporarily forgot, there's better days to come.   
I thought that I would give it just one more chance…  
  
I've seen tonight, what I've been warned about.   
I'm going to leave tonight, before I change my mind.  
  
So see me when you're forty,   
Lost and all alone,  
Comforted by strangers  
You'll never need to know.  
  
You're just a boy, not a man   
And I won't be coming back. _

  
Every morning she stumbled in at six in the morning, with make-up that suggested hours of careful application and hair that shone even in the dim dawn glow. Sometimes hung over, often tired, she always entered with the excited and careful smile of one who knows she's doing something for one she loves. She unlocked the office, stacked the papers in neat, organized piles and left a cup of coffee on his desk.   
  
Then, with the accomplished air of a job well done, she would sit down at her own desk and load her typewriter's page bay. For the next hour, the only sounds in the Department of International Magical Co-operation would be her steady breathing and the tap of her slim fingers against the keys.   
  
Every morning, the second the office clock struck seven, he apparated and rushed right past her. The first few times there'd been the briefest flicker of surprise across his cold features when the door swung open at his touch. Now he just bulldozed on without a glance at his secretary. He'd chew absentmindedly on a Danish pastry and sort through the messages with a sneer.  
  
Then, with all the timed practise of a pro, swept them with a flick of his fingers into the bin.   
  
"Weasley… oh, Weasley?" Draco would call with the sweetest of sarcastic tones… and like a devoted hound, Ginny would drop her work and dash as quickly as she dared to in high heel shoes. Her fingers would close timidly around the edge of the door and push it open as she stepped through the threshold. She would cling to the door with a hand behind her back while she stood to attention.. a security blanket, a handhold for the inevitable fall into the chasm of his displeasure.   
  
"Why haven't you emptied this?" he asked, cool as ice. He stared in a way that shouldn't have been legal, let alone allowed… like he could see right through her, through her brown eyes and right down into her soul. Ginny's eyes snapped shut and concentrated on her actions. She had emptied it after she'd put his coffee down… why did he live to torment her so?   
  
"Don't stand there like the thick Gryffindor idiot you obviously are," he hissed, the penetrating gaze leaving her and turning attention to a note on the desk, "empty it," he said.   
  
"Sorry, Mr. Malfoy," she mumbled, "it won't happen again."   
  
"I'm sure it won't," Draco replied pleasantly, such a change that she felt a warm shiver crawl up her spine and settle at the back of her neck. Her fingers tightened on the bin's rim and a crimson flush rose in her cheeks. "I have utter and total faith that we won't have any more problems."  
  
"… oh?" she asked timidly, "do you?"   
  
"A clever girl like you would see that another problem would cost her her job," he drawled, looking up once more with a smirk that looked drunken on authority. Ginny nodded and turned on one heel. She could still feel his eyes open her back as she stumbled out and shut the door behind her. In the safety of her empty office, she leaned against his door and smothered a shaky breath in her jacket.   
  
Wasn't it delicious, though? The rush of fear every time he said her name? The cold shivers and butterflies, the feeling of drunk terror when he completely lost his temper? She often felt tempted to insult him just to see those pale cheeks flush and those cold eyes glow with a fiery temper. A thrilling feeling that was so close and familiar… place brown eyes for grey and black hair for blonde and there was the unwelcome touch of a soul stealing memory.   
  
She knew it was all pretence… didn't she? Hadn't she seen him dissolve into helpless tears at a single letter? Wouldn't it be the perfect fairy tale romance to break through to the shy and sensitive man beneath?   
  
Ginny Weasley was much too old for fairy tales.   
  
How long had she worked here? Two years, three months, a week, five days, one hour and ten minutes. How long had she loved him? As long as she could remember… of course, he had different faces, different names, but they were all still him. Tom, who twisted her soul to hear her screams. Michael, ah, sweet little Michael… too scared of her thrills and odd fancies. Harry was still chasing shadows years after the death of you-know-who, unsettled, paranoid, and twitchy at small noises… no, Harry was now too delicate and fragile for her whims.   
  
Wasn't it odd to want to be possessed? Most women wanted it… they wanted to belong to one person, one person forever… most feeling that no matter how many other women that one person owned, they'd forever be the most special. Ginny didn't want that. Ginny didn't care. Take her, shake her, break her and toss her aside just as long as for those few brief moments in between, you clung to her and refused to let go.   
  
Maybe Draco's cool exterior personality wouldn't care to be cruel and compassionate at once… she'd still the shy boy beneath shrinking away from his energy and she wouldn't be able to take it. Excuses, excuses… hadn't he rejected her enough? He didn't want her, that was that.


End file.
